


Doth Protest

by acacia59



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acacia59/pseuds/acacia59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freddie suspects Brian of cheating on him and won’t stop until the truth come out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doth Protest

“In the dining room…with Roger…using a _banana_.” Freddie stormed into the living room, waving the offending piece of fruit in Brian’s face.

 

Brian startled, dropping his book and cursing as he nearly sloshed his glass of red wine onto his lap. “Freddie, what are you going on about?”

 

“It all makes sense now. The broken chair, the bruises on your thigh, the…feathers! You and our darling drummer are having an affair!” Freddie threw the banana at Brian, missed, and gasped as it hit a picture frame askew.

 

Brian laughed until he realized Freddie wasn’t joking and then he didn’t laugh anymore.

 

***

 

Brian hung up the phone and turned around to find Freddie in his pajamas wearing a suspicious look that was becoming all too familiar. Brian immediately felt tension starting to build at the base of his skull and behind his eyes.

 

“Who was that?”

 

“It was a call from my mum, Freddie,” Brian said, exasperation coloring his tone.

 

“There are flowers in the kitchen…” Freddie began, running his tongue over his teeth and drawing his breath for a tirade.

 

Brian cut him off. “Fred. This has to stop.”

 

But when Freddie didn’t want to listen, he wouldn’t listen. “Flowers, mysterious phone calls—“

 

“It was my _mum_!” Brian interjected, hating how his voice went high and whiny when he yelled.

 

Freddie didn’t pause, “—there was that groupie at the show last night, admiring your tight trousers. How low have you sunk? She washes REO Speedwagon’s clothes…”

 

“That’s it. I’m leaving. Call me when you feel like being rational again.” Brian threw his book into his bag and stormed from the house.

 

Freddie trailed him to the door, cats piling after him. “I know you’re hiding something,” he shouted desperately at Brian’s retreating back.

 

***

 

Brian followed Freddie up his drive, tension sparking between them like static on a cold winter day. He felt at turns cruel with anger and desperate for a reconciliation, but his intermittent attempts at small talk fell on coldly unreceptive ears.

 

Freddie went ahead into the house, but Brian noticed the letterbox, jammed with old mail. “You’ve forgotten to remind the staff about the mail again,” he called into the house. “You and your bad memory,” he muttered under his breath.

 

He took the mail inside. Freddie had gone to take a shower, without letting him know, Brian noted carefully with burning resentment, so he made a cup of tea and waited in the bedroom, listlessly looking through the stack of letters and adverts.

 

Minutes passed, then the sound of the cold, forgotten cup of tea hitting the tile floor and shattering echoed through the quiet house. Freddie slowly came out from the bathroom. Brian was perched on the edge of the bed, the bed that Freddie had left unmade for the first time Brian had ever seen. The mail was scattered loosely across the duvet. A single piece of paper was grasped loosely in Brian’s lifeless fingers.

 

“On this bed, Freddie…with John.” His voice was tinged with hopelessness.

 

“He broke up with me. A week ago,” Freddie said emotionlessly. “He found out about you.”

 

“A week ago.” Brian remembered when their fighting had begun. “Well, it must be a relief, huh?”

 

“What is?”

 

“A week ago you had too many secret boyfriends. And now you have none.”

 

Freddie watched the letter as it slowly drifted to the floor. He didn’t protest.


End file.
